Tuesday
by Claire Randall Fraser
Summary: The day that Derek Morgan fell in love. I changed the rating to M just to be safe due to the language in chapter 3.
1. Chapter 1

**I've always found the whole process of falling in love to be just downright awesomely weird. I mean one day you're just minding your own business without a care in the world and the next boom! you're stupidly giddy or nauseous or scared out of your mind because someone has turned your world upside down. This little story is the day that became awesomely weird for Derek. I don't own Criminal Minds. If I did I'd be on safari in South Africa.**

**Tuesday**

It was a Tuesday. Rainy, damp and somewhat cool but not unlike any other spring day in Quantico. To the untrained eye, nothing special or out of the ordinary is taking place.

The hidden bead of sweat slowly rolling down Derek's back revealed no secrets to the people at the table. Only Derek notices the acceleration of his heartbeat and the slight quickening of his breath. Maybe this is what they (whoever they are) mean when they talk about tunnel vision or maybe a better term is being in the zone. Yeah, he was in the zone. All athletes have experienced it at one time or another. When everything else but your focus, your target - disappears. Those moments when your hearing cancels out all unnecessary sound and your eyesight becomes so keen you can see the fear in your opponent's eyes way down the field or in this instance the almost indiscernible spray of freckles across the bridge of a woman's nose from across a conference room table. Hell even your sense of smell becomes so acute that you can distinguish scents of rose and jasmine and orchid in the perfume on her skin. Actually compartmentalize each scent before allowing them to flow back together.

"It's called Flowerbomb", she told him this morning in the break room. "Just a little something I picked up on impulse last night."

"You like?" With a cheeky grin she moves closer until only a thin line of air separates their bodies.

Although she is wearing her "Eff Me" heels as she likes to call them she still rises on her toes to give him better access to her alabaster neck and ultimately her scent. Gripping the sides of her waist, Derek draws her ever closer until nothing but their clothing separates them. Her nipples against his chest tell him that she is either cold or aroused. He chooses to believe that he is the cause. For a fleeting moment he wonders if she can feel the thickening ridge in his jeans. By the shiver that runs down her body he knows she can. He lowers his head until his face is pressed in the delicate crease between her neck and shoulder, his lips just grazing her skin. He breathes in deeply. She smells like a well-loved garden.

Now she sits at the farthest point from him on the diagonal. Her choice of seating is telling. Without fail and for as long as they've known each other she or he has always saved the seat next to the other. To be truthful the seat no longer needs to be "saved" for everyone from their fellow profilers, to the techies, to the admin staff they encounter in the cafeteria know that where one goes the other will follow. But today upon entering the conference room with head down and a blush to her skin she grabs the seat to the left of Dave Rossi and then rolls it until it is firmly wedged between Dave and Hotch. Surprised both men turn their heads towards her but she only gives them a nervous giggle before squeezing in and plopping down. With a slight tilt of his chair and a look behind her back, Dave shrugs at Hotch. Hotch in turn shakes his head and then turns to glare at Derek. No one has ever mistaken Hotch for a fool. He knows that Derek has something – most likely everything to do with this new seating arrangement. Derek misses his bosses menacing look that would make lesser men squirm for he only has eyes for his Penelope.

If anyone would have told him that on a rainy Tuesday morning he would fall in love with his best friend, he would have called them liars. For almost seven years they flirted, sometimes fought and even cried on each other's shoulders but despite what almost everyone thought they never loved each other. Well they loved each other as friends and as family from almost the beginning but not more. He just never thought of his Baby Girl in that way. Sure there was an initial 'what if' but that's where it ended. Until today. Now he wants her in a way that should scare him but doesn't. Now he should be making a mental list of the many reasons why he shouldn't pursue her but he won't. He doesn't care. His need for her is primal and he is determined to make up for lost time.

Please review and thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tuesday**

**Chapter 2**

**I want to thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I had no idea if Chapter 1 was going to be a one-shot or something more. You all keep me going and hopefully I won't disappoint with this chapter and any that may come. Once again I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Cons**

I have a boyfriend

Frat rules - _FBI brass frowns upon romance amongst the staff. That hasn't exactly stopped you and Kevin, now has it?_

If it doesn't work out it'll ruin our friendship

If it does or doesn't work out it'll ruin more than my friendship with Kevin

I'll owe Rossi $200 –_he bet me that Derek would finally shit… as in shit or get off the pot. I told him that there was no pot. He just laughed and told me he prefers brand new, crisp $100 dollar bills._

I have a boyfriend who gets me, loves me and we already bought tickets to Comic-Con

Derek's track record in committed relationships SUCKS

He probably doesn't even want a relationship – _Then_ _what does he want? Sex. He wants hot sweaty blow your mind and make you see Jesus kind of sex. Focus Garcie, this is supposed to be the con list!_

It's all in my head. What I thought I felt wasn't really what I thought I felt - _It was probably his gun or maybe he carries around a banana in his pocket. Yeah that's it, a really big banana._

I'm over him and have been for like 3 years

I'll owe Prentiss $100 bucks

I'll owe Gladys from Counterterrorism $50 -_This could get expensive_

It's just über pathetic to wait almost 7 years for a man to notice you – _a girl's got her pride, you know_

**Pros**

Maybe fairytales do come true

MGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMG

"Morgan does not want you in that way," Penelope whispers even though there is no one to hear her.

At least she hopes there isn't. With stuff to figure out and no time to make it back to her lair before the team meeting, she's been hiding out in the next best place for the last 5 minutes.

Sending up a quick prayer, and with one hand braced against the beige partition for balance, she slowly lowers one knee to the cold mosaic tile. Peering left then right beneath the row of stalls, she seeks the tell-tale signs of the clunky practical shoes worn by the majority of women of the BAU. FBI women are a lot of things, including highly intelligent, brave and dedicated, but sadly most can't tell the difference between Jimmy Choo and Jackie Chan.

With a sigh of relief and a quick bounce to her feet, she makes a mental note to treat her fashionably-challenged female colleagues to a Garcia inspired lunchtime workshop on the mental and emotional benefits of wearing designer shoes. She'll call it _Footcandy: Bringing out the Inner Goddess one Stiletto at a Time._

Tearing off her two-ply pro/con list from the roll attached to the wall and putting her furry pink pen behind her ear, Penelope finally exits the stall. With one last glance at the five word sentence on the pro side, she neatly folds the list and puts it in her bra for safe keeping.

Out of habit (even though she didn't actually use the restroom in the way God and the interior designers intended) she washes and dries her hands. The eyes looking back at her in the mirror reveal a mix of emotions ranging from doubt to confusion to even a little panic. Those are to be expected. What surprises her is the emotion that lays on top pushing the rest to the edges. Hope.

If someone would have warned her that on a cold rainy Tuesday morning she would be hiding from her BFF in the ladies room, she would have slapped their butt and called them Sally. If someone would have told her that she would end up in the break room locked in a sexually charged embrace with said BFF she would have called them insane. Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia don't do sexually charged anything (except flirting but that's completely innocent!), at least not with each other. But there she had been not more than 10 minutes before being consumed by the most luscious man on earth.

She had been standing facing the counter pouring herself a much needed 2nd cup of coffee when he walked up behind her and began their usual morning ritual.

"Good morning."

At the sound of his sultry voice she turned to face her Adonis.

Even if she wanted to she can't help but appreciate the perfection that is Morgan - from the tip of his black boots, up his muscular thighs, to his tight abs, to his strong chest, those arms of steel and last but not least that face. A face that belongs on the cover of People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive issue. Hey no one can blame a girl for looking. She may have a boyfriend but she's wasn't dead.

"I'll show you a good morning, Hot Stuff," she said with a wink and a saucy chuckle.

"Baby Girl, you smell delicious and I'm not talking about the coffee."

His appreciation makes her smile. "It's called Flowerbomb. Just a little something I picked up on impulse last night. You like?" She walks closer to give him a better smell.

What happens next she couldn't have predicted in a million years. She's suddenly in his arms and their bodies are pressed together so tightly she has trouble distinguishing where she ends and he begins. His arms, those rock hard arms are wrapped around her in what can only be described as a lovers embrace. The right hand soon travels down her spine until it rests no grips the space where her lower back ends and her ass begins. Derek pulls her closer until she can feel his hard length pressing against her core. This action makes the back of her skirt rise above her knees but Penelope doesn't notice. She's too busy catching on fire.

The shiver that ripples through her body has nothing to do with the weather outside or the thermostat in the room for Derek's body is like a furnace. The chill in the air is long gone. In mere seconds her body has become hypersensitive. Every inch of her skin tingles and begs to be stroked. Her nipples become hard and long to be sucked and the area between her legs softens and moistens.

And then it happens. He leans down until his lips brush the nape of her neck. Her neck! #2 on her top 10 list of favorite erogenous zones.

Mouth (especially Derek's mouth) + Garcia's neck = rainbows and unicorns and lollipops oh my.

She is so close so very close and the only thing that keeps her from bursting into a thousand tiny sparks is Reid walking through the door.

Now here she stands in the ladies room trying to gather up her courage to leave. Straightening to her full height, she squares her shoulders and heads out the main door ready for battle. And by battle she means avoiding Derek Morgan for the rest of the day. How she'll accomplish this when they have a team meeting beginning in oh 90 seconds, she hasn't quite figured out yet.

82 steps are what it takes to get from the ladies room to the conference room. 82 freaking steps that feel like an eternity to complete since she fully expects Hot Stuff to leap out from any corner all ninja-like and intercept her along the way. Nope. No Morgan but she does pass Prentiss, JJ and the Boy Genius along the way. The three of them standing at Reid's desk, heads together, most likely talking about the soft core porno that almost took place in the break room. Jeez, she'll never live this down.

Reaching the conference door at last she reaches for the door handle but quickly drops her hand. She's not ready.

"Come on Garcia. Stop being a big baby. Stand up straight, head up and march in that room like you own it."

With new found confidence that lasts all of .02 seconds, Penelope opens the door and slinks into the room doing her best to appear as small as possible. Where is an invisibility cloak when you need it?

Her body knows he's there before she sees him. All that alpha male energy directed at her is overwhelming and thins the air making it difficult to breathe. She needs protection and who is better to protect a damsel in distress from an alpha male than _two_ alpha males. Her heroes Super Agents Hotch and Rossi sit near the head of the table closest to the door. They're talking about what she has no clue but she has no time to care or ask questions.

She grabs the chair to Rossi's left and rolls it between the two men. It takes three hard shoves to get it wedged in the middle and a not so gentle hip check to Rossi's right shoulder to make room so she can slide into the seat but mission accomplished. And she's pretty sure that no one noticed anything out of the ordinary.

_TBC_

_Please review and I thank you for reading._


	3. Chapter 3

**I truly wish to thank all of my lovely reviewers and those who have added my story to their favorite lists. I'm sorry that it has taken me this long to update but life got in the way yada yada yada and then since I hadn't written in a while I got writer's block which is crazy sad since I had only written two previous chapters, including one really short one. I have learned my lesson. As of now I think that this story will end after chapter 5 or 6 at the very latest.**

**Once again I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Tuesday-Chapter 3**

Penelope was being hunted.

Dave Rossi was no stranger to the hunt whether it be ducks or beautiful women but unlike the younger agent sitting before him, Rossi knew that once the target was in sight it was best to take careful aim and fire before the game got skittish and fled out of range. And at the end of the meeting Penelope Garcia had fled as quickly as her four-inch heals could take her.

It'd been a long time coming –too damn long if someone bothered to ask Dave – but all signs pointed to Morgan finally pulling his head from his ass and seeing that for the past six years the target had been right in front of him. Standing still. Without camouflage. Wearing hot pink and bright orange, with the giant head of a bird of paradise clipped to hair dyed colors not found in nature. It burned his butt to agree with his 2nd ex-wife but men really could be as dumb as a box of rocks.

So here the two men sat at an impasse, sizing each other up like two cowboys before the gunfight at the O.K. Corral essentially waiting for the other to blink. Never one for playing games Dave got right to the point.

"You hurt her and I'll shoot you in your good knee."

Except for one lone eyebrow sliding upward, Derek's facial expression remained unchanged.

"Stay out of this, Rossi."

"No can do, friend. Our usually playful wisecracking technical analyst just spent an entire hour silent, which frankly I didn't know was possible. On top of that she looked everywhere in this room but at you which again I didn't know was possible."

Derek opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by Rossi's raised hand.

"At 8:45 this morning we rode the elevator up together and she was fine then but sometime between then and 9:30 am something happened. My money is on that something being you."

Leaning forward Rossi clasped his hands on the mahogany table.

"So Derek, we can either sit here while you act like I don't know what I'm talking about or we can have a nice chat man to man. Your choice but be aware that if Hotch was able to beat Emily and JJ to Garcia's office, she's probably singing to him like a songbird."

Almost a full minute passes while Derek looks increasingly uncomfortable. With a quick rub to his bald head he finally speaks.

"I think I'm in love with her."

Slapping his hand on the table, Rossi lets out a laugh, "Now was that so hard?"

Shooting the older agent a heated look, "I see nothing funny about me being in love with my best friend."

"You don't but I find it fucking hysterical."

Irritated, Derek pushes away from the table and heads for the door.

Standing quickly, Dave shifts to his left effectively blocking Morgan's escape. Palms up and out in the universal sign of surrender, Dave does his best to quickly pacify the situation.

"Hold on a minute I'm not laughing at you. I'm just happy that you've finally figured things out. Though I have to admit I was starting to have my doubts."

Motioning toward the nearest two chairs, Rossi waits for the younger man to sit before following.

"Some of the others figured that you'd never get your head out of your as…err realize that you were in love with our girl."

"Others? Don't bother I can guess who the others are but for the record I didn't fall in love with Penelope until today. I mean I've loved her like a sister but in love didn't happen until this morning in the break room."

It was Derek's turn to laugh, "Okay saying that out loud even sounds crazy to my ears but it's the truth."

Rossi knew that profilers were notoriously inept at profiling themselves but this was just stupid. Derek is one of the best at his job and in a few years would be even better than he was (to both to Dave's pride and annoyance) but never had he witnessed the younger agent be so off the mark.

"Bullshit! Do you cuddle with Sarah and Desirée?"

"Hell no! What kind of sick fu…?"

Rossi couldn't tell if Derek was more surprised or sickened by the mere suggestion that he cuddles with his sisters.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. It was a rhetorical question. I also know that you don't cuddle with Emily or JJ either and I've more than once heard you describe them as your pain in the ass sisters."

"So what I don't cuddle with Reid and he's like the brother I've need had so what's your point," Derek shot back at him.

"I'm just saying that you and Penelope are awfully comfortable with each other's bodies."

"Penelope and I haven't slept together, if that's what you're getting at."

"No, that's not where I'm going but speaking of sleeping, have you two shared a bed?" Dave asked without missing a beat. He knew the answer but was enjoying watching Morgan squirm in his chair.

Quickly losing patience, Derek began to wonder if his colleague was going senile.

"I already told you that we haven't had sex." The unspoken yet lingered in the air like Baby Girl's scent on Derek's shirt. God, he couldn't wait to hold her again.

"Not sex. I'm talking about sharing a bed when only one bed is available. You on one side, she on the other. You know as friends."

Derek really wanted to wipe that shit eating grin off Rossi's face. He never noticed before but the man looked like he had his 32 teeth and then some.

"Again no, there's never been the need…"

"Bullshit!" How about after Kitten was shot and you stayed on her couch for two weeks?"

"She was recovering from a gunshot wound. The last thing she needed was me bumping her in the middle of the night?"

By now Dave was firing off questions in rapid succession giving Derek little time to think about his answers.

"What about before she was shot? Are you telling me you never stayed the night?"

"She has a comfortable couch," Understanding Rossi's game, Derek was quick to answer.

"And when the two of you shared a room in Alaska?"

"She has a boyfriend. I wanted to be respectful so I slept on the floor."

They held each other's gaze. It wasn't lost on either of them that there was a good chance that in a couple of days when Kevin Lynch thought of Derek Morgan the word respectful probably wouldn't be the first word to come to mind.

Derek would have to think about Kevin later. First he had to put an end to this interrogation so that he could get to his Baby Girl. Well first finish with Rossi, and then get past Hotch so that he could finally get to Baby Girl. Knowing Penelope she was filling her hard head with conspiracy theories and doomsday scenarios. Her flair for the melodramatic was impressive and more times than not fun to witness but could prove dangerous to his plans.

"Is there a point to this?" Derek was clearly aggravated by this line of questioning.

Locking eyes with the younger man, David Rossi lowers his voice to a level Derek has only heard him use with unsubs. Each word that leaves his mouth is clear and determined and allows no room for interruption.

"My point is that you've never treated her like a sister in all the time I've known you. My point is that Derek Morgan doesn't cuddle with his sisters biological or otherwise but give him a chair or a couch and he will wrap his body around Penelope Garcia the first chance he gets. I think sharing her bed was the imaginary line you drew in the sand and you've always known that if you put one toe over it you'd have to admit that being her brother is the last thing you wanted to be. That you'd have to step up to the plate, stop chasing ass at the bars, and risk opening your heart to a woman who knows how to do nothing else but to love unconditionally."

"I'm going to give you some advice and you better take it. Go to her spewing crap about seeing her as a sister all these years and you're going to blow it. It was love at first sight for her and she's scared out of her mind that she's misreading your cues. I don't know what caused you to finally grow a pair and open your eyes to that incredible woman I've come to care about and honestly I don't care but if you continue to make her doubt herself or don't treat her like the princess she is I'll bury you. Do I make myself clear?"

_TBC_

_All reviews the good, the bad and the ugly are greatly appreciated._


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Readers,

I apologize for the long lag time between updates but if the muse aint there she just aint there. Thankfully, she came back last night with a vengeance. Here's is the 2nd to last chapter of Tuesday. I hope you like it. Don't forget to hit the review button at the end of the page.

It should go without saying but I'm saying it anyway, Criminal Minds and its characters do not belong to me.

**Tuesday**

**Chapter 4**

Aaron Hotchner has a secret.

His favorite place in all of the BAU is Penelope Garcia's office. Filled with sock monkeys, furry pens, troll dolls, and old-fashioned penny candy, it's like a funhouse hidden among the cold sterile walls of the FBI.

On the rare occasion that he has reason to enter he sometimes stands just off to the side – before she even has a chance to realize that he's there- to watch her manicured fingers dance along the multiple keyboards.

Usually she reminds him of a spinning top he was obsessed with as a boy. With a quick flick of the wrist, it was an explosion of stored energy spinning with the grace and speed of an Olympic figure skater.

Perfectly balanced on its axis it would skip along the sidewalk until the inevitable wobble would cause it to lose momentum and fall on its side. But for a time it was pure poetry in motion.

But today his technical analyst is more wobble than balance and this instability has her muttering to herself as she tears around her office organizing files that don't need organizing, and wiping down already dust-free monitors. She's been thrown off-kilter and he has a pretty good idea as to why.

The years have taught him that when dealing with an agitated Garcia, it is best to not make any sudden moves and to keep his voice gentle yet firm. His role in their relationship is clear – be her constant, her anchor in the storm – especially when said storm is Hurricane Morgan.

It's a responsibility he doesn't take lightly and one he privately welcomes. To outsiders he is her boss but he and Penelope connect on a much deeper level. She is his little sister.

It is not until Penelope backs into what feels like a living breathing wall does she realize that she's not alone. Letting out a startled cry she whips around to discover that the immovable object in the doorway is not her Hot Stuff but her Bossman.

Sending up a silent 'merci' to the goddess of tiramisu and all things chocolate, she bends down to pick up the file folder she dropped on the floor.

For a time the only sound in the room is the low hum of the computer equipment. Penelope opens her mouth to speak but when nothing comes out, closes it again. Not usually at a loss for words, she decides that the best course of action is to pretend that he's not there and hope that he'll go away.

What does one say to one's boss who may or may not have noticed your BFF undress you with his eyes in a conference room filled with your teammates? Nothing, if asked you plead the fifth.

Taking pity on her, Hotch decides to put her out of her misery.

"If he hurts you I promise they'll never find the body."

Clutching the folder over her heart, Penelope can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Hotch always knows the right thing to say.

"Aww, that's so sweet."

There's no question as to whom the "he" is. Hotch is like Santa Claus, he sees and knows everything.

"Bossman, have you ever wanted something only to finally get it but then change your mind about wanting it?" her voice sounds small and uncertain even to her own ears.

Shutting the door behind him he gives her a quick nod.

"Yeah…well, I've changed my mind. I think. Yes? Maybe? No. I don't know." Her words end in a whine.

Shaking her head she drops the folder onto her desk. Hotch takes note the even her file folders scream Penelope Garcia. Hot pink and lime green they are unconventional colors for an uncommon woman.

"I'm used to the status quo. Me lusting after Morgan and him pretending to want me back and me trying to pass off all my lusting as a joke but _that_**,**" she motions to the conference room beyond the door, "I don't know how to do."

"You'll figure it out," he assures her.

"But we don't make sense," she argues back.

"I think the two of you make a lot of sense."

Hotch, the man gets up at 5 AM and runs 5 miles, every day" the face she makes when she says 5 AM rivals his son Jack's when he's told to eat his brussel sprouts, "tackles bad guys like they owe him money, and struts around with a body sculpted by the mighty hands of benevolent gods and a smile designed by vestal virgins."

Her eyes plead for him to understand.

"I couldn't even wake up on time for the wedding of the century," she confesses as if she's committed a mortal sin.

At his look of confusion, she sighs. Sometimes his lack of knowledge of world events is disturbing. She makes a mental note to get him subscriptions to People Magazine and Hello! UK, pronto.

"Prince William and Kate, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge! I had to watch it online two hours after it aired. Keep up, Bossman."

Hotch quickly suppresses the smile that's bubbling to the surface. Her flair for the dramatic is what makes Garcia, uniquely Garcia.

"The only tackling I do is to a plate of fudge brownies and the only sculpting my body gets is when it's fitted for a new corset." Hearing herself she gasps.

One does not speak of corsets with one's boss.

"Penelope, I've seen Morgan leap from one 10-story building to the next with only air and concrete to break his fall, take down armed men twice his size with his bare hands, and save hundreds when he drove an ambulance carrying a bomb out of city limits.."

Eyes' narrowing, Penelope interrupts, "I'm still mad at him for that one."

"So am I but he gets both my frustration and respect because there's not much that scares him. But when you were shot by Battle," Hotch shakes his head at the memory of Penelope lying in her hospital bed, "I saw something in his eyes that scared me and I knew that if we lost you, we'd lose him too."

Derek's faith, tenuous at best, was tied to whether the person he loved the most in the world lived or died and from experience Hotch knew that agents without faith in God, a person, or a belief in something would eventually self-destruct. He'd seen it too many times.

Some were quick and direct and put a bullet to their heads while other opted for a more scenic route by slowly drinking and drugging themselves to death.

But Derek Morgan, he would be different. He would throw himself into seemingly more dangerous situations with unsubs and be the first to volunteer for deadly missions with bomb squads until fate finally caught up with him.

Hotch sometimes wonders if J.J. has any idea just how many people she saved with her steady gunshot to the middle of Battle's forehead.

"I once told him that he doesn't truly trust anyone but I was wrong. He trusts you, Penelope, probably more than anyone else. He trusts that you'll keep his secrets safe and love him despite his faults."

Blinking back tears she gives him one of her sweet smiles. "What faults? My noir knight is perfect."

Hotch's face breaks into one its rare smiles. It's a smile that reminds Garcia of Jack, her honorary nephew.

"He loves you, Penelope. It took him a long time to admit it but don't let that stop you from finding happiness. And he'll make you happy, I'm sure of it or he'll answer to me."

By now Penelope is in full-on ugly cry mode. Sobbing she throws her arms around Hotch and hangs on for dear life. It may be inappropriate to soak the front of your boss's crisp white dress shirt but she doesn't care. She adores this man and he needs know it.

"Uhm…Garcia, it's time to let go now," he voices over her sniffles and hiccups. Arms held straight down at his sides he prays that no one walks through the door.

"No can do, Bossman. I'm not done with you yet."

Squeezing tighter she sighs, "I love you, Aaron Hotchner."

It's not long before she feels two strong arms wrap around her and they're squeezing back just as hard. And maybe she's imagining things but she's pretty sure she hears him whisper something into her hair.

Six words that sorta sound like, "I love you too, Penelope Garcia."

_TBC_

One chapter to go and I promise it will be all Morgan and Garcia.

_Please review, you know you want to._


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Readers,_

_Long time, no update. I apologize for my absence but I stopped watching Criminal Minds a long time ago. I still love Derek and Penelope but the show…not so much. That being said, here's the final chapter to __**Tuesday.**__ Quite a few of you have sent me private messages politely asking me to get off my lazy butt and post an update so here it is. I hope you enjoy it._

**Tuesday**

**Chapter 5**

"Why now?" Penelope's first words to him since the incident in the break room were simple, to the point and brook no nonsense.

Derek knew that their future hinged on how he handled the next few moments. He had strutted into her office ready to flash his million watt smile and to make light of being the talk of the department, but what he found stopped him dead in his tracks.

She stood at her desk, her back straight as an arrow with fists positioned on her hips. Her eyes lacked their usual mischief he'd come to expect and look forward to, and for the first time, in a long time, Derek admitted to himself that he was scared. Terrified, really, for no amount of joking or sexual innuendo was going to make any of this okay if he couldn't find the right words to let her know how he felt.

"Earth to Derek!" She waved her hand in front of his face to snap him back to the present.

"Why today and not yesterday or any other time since we met? Oh, here's a novel idea: how about telling a girl you're interested _before_ she gets a boyfriend? Kevin's been good to me. He's been good to both of us and now on a whim you expect me to drop him like a bad habit."

"It's not a whim." Derek barely got the words out before Penelope was back on the offensive.

"Then what would you call it because for the life of me I can't figure you out."

"I don't know."

Penelope made a sound like a buzzer from a 90s TV game show, "Wrong answer."

It was not often that Derek found himself on the receiving end of Penelope's anger but he knew enough to tread lightly.

"Baby, I wish I had a better answer for you but it's the only one I've got."

"Just go." She pointed over his shoulder at the door behind him. "I don't have time for games. Not anymore."

Derek took a step closer but stopped when she motioned with her hand for him to keep his distance.

Unnerved by Penelope's tone and body language, Derek found himself looking beyond her to the framed photo on her desk. It was a selfie of the two of them. It had been taken the night of one of their notorious movie marathons. Both of them sprawled lazily on her purple couch. Derek kissing Penelope on the cheek; Penelope's smile brighter than the sun and moon put together.

And in that moment, Rossi's words flooded back to him. There was nothing brotherly about the way he looked at her in the photo. His eyes half open; the kiss just shy of her lips. They looked like a couple who had just finished making love and planned to do so again as soon as possible.

Penelope turned her head to see what had caught Derek's attention. The picture was one of her favorites. They had stayed up most of the night watching a Julia Roberts marathon (her pick) and had finally called it quits right before dawn.

As her habit, she tucked Derek in on the couch, wished him sweet dreams, and headed to her bedroom. His parting words shocked her and sent her into a fit of giggles, _Oh baby, I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave._ Not to be outdone, Penelope gave her hips an extra wiggle and bent forward – slowly - to pick up imaginary lint off the floor. Two could play at that game.

A small smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it. That was then but this is now, she reminded herself. She tore her gaze away from the photo and caught Derek watching her.

"Baby Girl, this morning in the break room you were standing there so pretty, and just so…_you _and it hit me like a punch to the gut. I want more."

"More what?"

"More you. More us. I'm tired of sleeping on the couch."

"So this is all about sex?"

"No. Yes. What I mean to say is no this isn't all about sex and yes I want to have sex with you."

"Derek," his name tumbled from her lips on a sigh, "don't do this to me. I'm not in the mood to be teased."

For the first time since he walked into her lair, Penelope's resolve wavered. Hotch's pep talk had given her much needed courage but courage was fleeting when the voice inside her head kept telling her to run and hide.

Derek knew that it was now or never to come clean. If there was a chance in Hell for the two of them to make it work then he'd have to lay his heart on the proverbial table. He stepped forward until their bodies were as close as close can be without touching.

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life. Penelope Garcia, you are everything I've ever wanted and probably more than I deserve and if you tell me it's too late for us, I'll understand. I won't like it and I'll hate myself for letting the best thing to ever happen to me slip through my fingers but I'll accept it." He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "Even if it kills me."

Her brown eyes searched his darker ones for any trace of deception or uncertainty and found none. And then she did something that caught them both by surprise. She kissed him. Smack-dab on the lips and before long Derek kissed her back with all the pent up passion of a man determined to make up for lost time. His body went on auto-pilot and his hands explored and squeezed places on Penelope he had only dreamed of touching.

Just as things were getting good, _really good_, Penelope broke off the kiss and pulled away. Taken aback and still caught up in the euphoria of living his fantasy, Derek tried to follow but was stopped when Penelope dropped her face into her hands.

"Baby Girl, talk to me."

Penelope shook her head and mumbled something unintelligible.

"If we're going too fast, we can slow down. Is that what you want?"

Still not ready to speak, she could only groan. Again she shook her head.

"Was it the kiss? Because I like kissing you. A lot. Do you like kissing me?"

This time her head bobbed up and down like a buoy in a storm.

"That's good to know. So now that we've established that we like kissing each other and neither one of us wants to take things slow, why don't you tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

Penelope dropped her hands into his waiting ones and let out a deep sigh.

"Kevin." Her voice sounded mournful even to her own ears. "This is going to hurt him and that's the last thing I want."

If Kevin had been anyone else, Derek wouldn't have wasted a second thought on him but he was a friend. Not a best friend like Garcia or Reid, but a friend nonetheless.

"I'll talk to him."

Penelope tried to pull her hands out of Derek's but he held on tight.

"Are you out of your mind? You can't break up with my boyfriend for me."

"I'll handle it. I'll tell him that I finally pulled my head out of my ass and admitted that I'm in love with my best friend."

"D., you can't…wait a minute…you just said you're in love with me." The bright smile that lit up her face was a close match to the one in the photograph.

"I am and probably for longer than I even realize. The truth is, you scare the hell out of me."

Penelope couldn't believe her ears. Unsubs didn't scare Derek. Leaping tall buildings in a single bound didn't scare Derek. The man was fearless.

"I've never been good at long term relationships," he continued, "at least not the romantic kind. And because of that I've always figured that marriage and children weren't in the cards for me but then you came along and put all these crazy ideas in my head."

"Like what?"

"You know, happily ever after and all that other fairytale stuff. You made me start to think that maybe there was someone out there for me and maybe that person is you. That is, if you'll have me."

Penelope gasped, "Hot Stuff, did you just ask me to marry you?"

Derek drew Penelope into his arms and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He then looked into her eyes to gauge her reaction to his next words.

"Not exactly. Let's just call it a _save the date_. That way you can try me out for a while before becoming Mrs. Penelope Morgan. Is that okay?"

"More than okay but I'm not going to wait forever. Understand?"

"Got it. And I promise to do my best not to mess things up."

"You won't. Mess things up, that is." Penelope buried her face into his shoulder and held on tight.

Her confidence in him made Derek smile and right then and there he pledged to become the man that she deserved.

"You sound pretty sure of yourself," he said.

"My Hot Stuff can do anything he sets his mind to. Plus, Hotch won't let you."

_**THE END**_


End file.
